


Bang

by katethedork



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Blood, Demons, F/M, Gore, Guns, Horror, Humor, Short Story, Thriller
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26272459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katethedork/pseuds/katethedork
Summary: (Wilford Warfstache x Fem, reader, with a bit of x Dark - Thriller, drama)Being fresh out of college had its perks. You were "free". At least, in the sense that you had no classes to worry about anymore. You were finally out in the real world, ready for anything that was thrown your way. Naïve, really. It might have been a good thing that you went along with that stupid dare. A dare to knock on the front door of Markiplier Manor. A place that no one had ever dared venture to. Well, except for you. You were given a rude awakening to reality. Time to start your new life in this horror-filled world with a Bang.
Relationships: Darkiplier/Reader, Wilford Warfstache/Reader, Wilford Warfstache/You, darkiplier/you
Kudos: 17





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> a short story from my quotev account. I am not in this fandom anymore, but I am very proud of this work, so here ya go.

Markiplier Manor, a topic that was discussed day after day, especially during Halloween time. Almost everyone believed that it was haunted, or at least some creepy person lived in it. No one knew for certain, either way. No one even knew how long it had been there. However, it did have a deed in the archives of Town Hall, so it was still a piece of property. That fact just raised even more questions since it wasn’t owned by the Town, nor the government, nor a history company. And yet, money was still sent in for taxes, and sometimes people would claim to see lights on or even silhouettes of people moving about in the Manor. It was all so strange. 

How was it possible to have no one living in a place that still had electricity, and water, and other utilities. That’s the thing, though, it wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. But still, no one did anything about it. They were all too scared. And they had every right to be. Who would want to go there? And what would they do? Just go up and knock on the front door? There was no way anyone would that. So the people of the town kept to themselves. Sure there were rumors and ghost stories about the Manor, although none were true.

There were some theories that the original owner -- or owners -- still lived there. Which may have been possible. Except for the fact that they would be almost ninety and a man that old being able to maintain a house of that magnitude with no help? Not very likely.

None of the other stories made sense either. Some of them said that no one lived there, and it was just a government-funded laboratory. Others said that demons or ghosts roamed the abandoned halls in search for a way out since they were trapped there by some unseen supernatural force. 

But still, none of those added up to what was actually seen and known about the Manor. Which made it all the scarier and just plain out odd.

No one had the courage to step one foot on the lawn that was suspiciously well kept. No one was brave enough to venture through the tall gates and walk up to the Manor. No one was… stupid… enough to scale the tall, black fence and drunkenly amble up to the front and actually knock on the door.

Well, that is until someone actually did. 

(Y/n) (L/n). Age twenty-two. Fresh out of college and into the world. Incredibly intelligent and logical, but still fun when in situations that called for it. Incredibly stupid and rash when with her friends and at a bar. Peer pressure can do that to a person. Especially when they had been out drinking and then forced to play a game of truth or dare. 

You had gone to college for forensic science, so you had a pretty good grasp on what went on in the world of crime and analyzing evidence. You had always found criminal justice fascinating, so it only made sense for you to major in it. You were lucky enough to have gotten an internship at the local police station when you were in college. Which made it all the easier to get a job there, albeit as an errand runner, but it was better than nothing.

That night was a Saturday, the Saturday before Halloween to be exact, and you had the next day off, so it was perfectly fine for you to grab a few drinks with your three closest friends, Alex, Jason, and Dani. 

You four were inseparable since you first met at college. You all were going for some kind of criminal justice; Alex for plain old criminal justice, but she always wanted to become an investigator. Jason focused more on the cybersecurity part of it as he was always the guy you went to if your computer was acting up. And Dani, she specialized in forensic psychology, meaning she would profile suspects or witnesses -- she would even sometimes use her vast knowledge of the subject to break down why one of you were sad or angry, it was slightly annoying at times, but you all still loved her. 

The four of you went to your regular bar --which was close to the downtown areas of your city-- at around eight pm just to hang out with a couple of drinks, and possibly a few drunk and embarrassing drinking games. Including truth or dare. Drunk edition. 

You were smart enough to know not to drink as much as your friends did. A very good idea on your part seeing as how the dare you were about to get definitely called for at least a little sobriety. 

Alex, a short, but aggressive brunette with striking blue eyes and a glare that could kill a fully grown wrestler, drank a little too much that night and thought of the worst possible dare, even after the one she had to do; dunk her head into a toilet and flush it. But she did it with no thought whatsoever. She was somewhat the daredevil of the friend group. And that meant her dare would be absolutely insane. 

Alex looked over at you, a wicked grin playing on her black-painted lips. Dread washed over you. You already knew that you would have no choice on whether or not it was a dare. The game was more like dare or double dare. 

"I have the best dare for you, (Y/n)."

Your other friend, Jason, a stocky brunet with dark, round eyes and a personality of a teddy bear, gave her a worried look, knowing full well that her idea of the "best dare" was not what anything anyone else thought. 

Alex ignored Jason's look with a sloppy glare. "It's a great plan."

You sighed and put your drink down, wiping your hands on your pants. “Okay, let’s hear it.” You braced yourself for the most likely idiotic and dangerous dare Alex was going to make you do.

Alex’s grin widened at your response. “Well, (Y/n), since it’s ‘Spoopy Season’, I thought it might be best to do something… y’know, spoopy~.” She slurred and wiggled her fingers in your general direction.

Jason facepalmed at Alex’s stupidity and his girlfriend, Danielle, a pretty tall ravenette with bright green eyes and a huge protective attitude towards her friends, patted his back reassuringly. You merely sighed heavily and gestured for Alex to continue even though you were fearful that whatever idea she had would not end well for you, or anyone for that matter.

Alex, oblivious to Jason’s rudeness, continued with her ‘great’ idea. “You all know the spookiest thing in this godforsaken city, don’t ya?” No one answered her question so she kept on going. “You’re right!” She stopped her goofiness and stared you dead in the eyes, a serious expression on her dark face. “I want you, Miss (Y/n), to knock on the front door of Markiplier Manor.”

Silence followed her speech as Jason, Dani, and you all stared open-mouthed at the rebellious girl. You all knew that she was quite the daredevil, but dare someone to go to the Markiplier Manor? And you of all people too! She was out of her mind. There was no way you were going through with that dare. No way… 

How did you find yourself in this situation again? Standing in front of the black iron gate of Markiplier Manor, ready to climb the fence and go up to the front door and just knock on it, then run back to the safety of your friends. Yeah, Alex basically forced you to do this, at one o’clock in the morning, slightly buzzed, wearing a pair of ripped jeans and a cropped blue hoodie with black boots. Not the kind of ordeal you would have liked to have been in at that time. Nor any time, for that matter.

Sure, you could go investigate a gruesome crime scene any day, but go to a possibly haunted manor with nothing but the clothes on your back? It was insane. And not to mention the fact that it was against the law to go there. But you kinda had to do it. Else Alex never let it down.

So there you were, ready to climb over the tall iron gate and walk up to the front door. Your clouded brain thought, ‘Why the hell not?’, while the more logical side of you disagreed completely. 

However, you couldn’t lie to yourself completely. You were curious, no doubt about that. No one had ever gone to that place. No one. What if you were the first one to truly find out what was going on in the one place that took over anyone’s thoughts when they heard about hauntings or mysteries. It was somewhat exhilarating.

You should have known by then that you should never get your hopes up, or they might just come true.

You felt a nudge on your shoulder making you turn around and see Alex gesturing for you to get on with the dare. You sighed heavily and turned back around. You rolled your shoulders back and shook your hands as if getting ready for a race. And, to be honest, it kind of was one, or at least as nerve-wracking as one. One hand gripped the old, iron bar, the other grabbing another one. You hauled yourself up a few inches, putting your feet on the side of the bars, darn good thing you took those police training courses. After a minute or so, you manage to get to the top of the gate, time to get down. You looked below you, it wasn’t that far of a jump, you could do it. It wasn’t like you weren’t already risking your life, why not add even more thrill to it?

You looked back at your friends, a wicked grin displaying on your face as you jumped down without looking. Dani yelped a bit, but you tucked into a roll before you hit the ground, breaking your fall. Dani and Jason ran over to the gate, worried looks on their faces. 

You turned to them, winked and shot a playful finger gun. They heaved sighs of relief at your usual sarcastic behavior and walked back to their original spot. 

Looking up at the large manor, you sucked in a nervous breath, you were really going through with this. You didn’t have to. You could have immediately said no to Alex’s stupid idea and went home. But you didn’t. You decided to just go along with it. How bad could it be? You were just knocking on a door, it wasn’t like you were going inside.

Before you could second guess your decision, you were already standing at the front door, your hand hovering right in front of it. Trembling with nervousness and a bit of excitement, you slowly but surely brought your shaking fist to the stained wood and knocked once. Twice. Three times.

Your hand fell to your side after the third knock, you waited a few seconds, anxiously thinking that something was going to pop out at you. But nothing happened. Just silence. 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you turned around and began making your way back to the gate where your friends were. As you were walking back, you saw your friends’ expressions begin to change to one of horror, which caused you to begin to walk faster. Their faces turned to pure terror making you frightened as well. Was there something behind you? If so, what?

You almost made it to the safety of your friends when you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. The sudden feeling of a large weight on your otherwise bare shoulder was enough to make you jump out of your skin before freezing to your spot right in front of the gate, just out of your friends reach. Jason and Dani both attempted to get closer to you, but the stranger behind you would not let them. The person lifted their right arm so it was right by your head causing you to see that it was a man and he was holding a golden pistol. Fear coursed through you, fear that he would shoot at your friends, you couldn’t let that happen. You tried to grab the man’s arm before he fired but failed due to his unnaturally strong grip on your shoulder. A deafening bang rang out through the field you were in, birds flying out of their nests due to the loud noise. You looked at your friends with surprise and betrayal as Alex grabbed Jason and Dani’s arms dragging them away just in time for the bullet to only hit a tree next to them, and not your friends. Jason and Dani both struggled to get back to you, but Alex refused to let go, leaving you alone with a strange man who might have lived in the Manor that caused so much distress in not only your life but so many others as well.

The hand on your shoulder slowly turned you around to face the insane man, however, your eyes were cast down as you were too afraid to look up and look into the eyes of whoever this man was. You also didn’t want to show him how scared you were, nor how annoyed you were at your friends. Unfortunately, he caught on to your distress and laughed. Just laughed.

“Sad that your buddies left ya?”

His voice was strange, strange enough to make you look up at him. His speech made it sound like he had an accent, of what, you weren’t sure. He would accentuate the vowels in every word, moving his jaw to emphasize it even more. It was very odd. He was very odd.

His grip on you tightened drastically causing you to scrunch your eyes in slight pain. You couldn’t see his face very well due to the night being so late and therefore making everything it touched shrouded in darkness. However, you could tell that he had a mustache that did not match his hair which was strange to you. Well, everything about this man was strange, so it wasn’t really surprising to you. You could also see that he was wearing a light button-up with suspenders and a bow tie. The more you noticed about this man, the more your suspicions grew. He couldn’t be living in the Manor. He was just too… different to be living in a place as nice as that Manor. Not only that, but he looked familiar somehow, like you had seen a picture of him somewhere, but only for a split second before it disappeared into your memories. At least, until now. 

It took you a while to think clearly enough to actually realize that the man before you asked you a question. You tried to form words, but it only came out as a mumbled mix of sounds, no coherent words at all. The strange man tilted his head to the side, his hand leaving your shoulder so he could toss his gun between his hands. The careless attitude he gave towards a device that could end someone’s life in a split second scared you even more than you already were. 

The man finally put his gun in one hand and let it hang to his side. You kept on eyeing the gun, just in case the man decided to use it on you and not just as a toy. He grabbed your hand and brought it up to his face as if to examine it like a piece of evidence at a murder scene. And who knows? Maybe it was going to be a murder scene soon. You did nothing to get your hand back, afraid that it would provoke him into doing something rash.

Fortunately, he did nothing more with your hand, but still held on to it. He narrowed his eyes at you, examining your reaction to his strange display. He smiled at your very confused and also scared countenance as if proud of himself for making you feel like that. 

“Don’t like to talk much, do ya?” He kept his grip on your hand and started to twirl you around. “Well, no matter, I can do all the talkin’ for ya.” He stopped spinning you and bowed his upper half, his right hand still on your hand, his left moved wildly outwards, the golden gun glimmering in the moonlight. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

Your (e/c) widened in slight shock at the newly named Wilford’s speech. “Uh, (Y/n), at yours?” You responded, still confounded.

Wilford laughed and dropped his gun, causing another bullet to fire at a tree to the right of you. A scream escaped your lips due to the loud sound from the gun and the fact that Wilford grabbed your other hand and began terribly dancing with you. He spun the both of you around in circles, leading you closer to the manor. However, that latter part flew over your head as you were being spun until you were right in front of the main entrance. Wilford stopped spinning you once you reached the front porch. You swayed a bit, dizziness and a bit of nausea filling your head. This guy was completely insane. What was that even for? It made no sense.

Your head finally decided to stop throbbing and you were able to see that you were once again in front of the place that caused the whole mess you were in. Why would that man bring you there? Unless he really did live in that place. Said man took your hand again which caused you to see that he had his gun again. How? You had no idea, your mind was on other things, such as the fact that Wilford had begun to drag you inside the Manor.

You started pulling your hand away from the door. It was enough that you were forced to dance with that deranged man, but also get forced into a Manor that had who knows what inside? No way.

Wilford looked back at you, confused as to why you were trying to get away. He was merely trying to be a gentleman, and gentlemen brought ladies in for dinner, did they not? Times had changed, and he hadn’t been in a situation with a lady for some time. Wilford let go of your hand once he realized that you did not want to come inside with him. Perhaps he had scared you. Or perhaps you were simply too busy to have a nice dinner with him. Yes, that one seemed more likely. After all, who would find Wilford scary? He was merely a man trying to show a woman his wonderful home -- and cooking skills. It wasn’t anything to be afraid of.

Once Wilford let go of your hand, you looked into his crazed, brown eyes, your entire body shaking due to the amount of fear you were feeling. You both stared at each other for a few seconds before you bolted for the gate, leaving him as your friends left you.

You made it to the gate and climbed it as fast as you could. As you jumped down to the other side of the gate, away from the Manor, you turned back just before running down to the town. The darkness around you made it difficult to see the man clearly, but you could still tell that his brows were furrowed in puzzlement, a hurt expression on his face. Was he really confused as to why you were leaving him? Once that thought entered your mind, you were filled with disgust at that man’s self conceitedness. He truly believed that you would happily go with him to his house and do what? Have a nice cup of tea? 

You shook your head and sprinted down the long driveway until you made it to the main road where you hailed a cab and had them take you to Dani’s house, you didn’t feel safe alone and she was the one you trusted the most. Your second choice would have been Jason, but you knew that he worked early in the morning on Sundays. There was no way you were going to Alex’s, to you it felt like she had betrayed you. At least Dani and Jason wanted to help you, Alex just ran. What kind of friend did that?

After a short drive, you made it to Dani’s apartment complex. It wasn’t anything too special, after all, she had just gotten out of college and still had loads of student loans to pay off, so a slightly run-down complex was the best she -- and you -- could afford. You practically sprinted up the stairs and almost rammed into the door to Dani's apartment. You took in a huge breath and knocked ten times on the door as loud as you could. 

"Dani! It's me, (Y/n)! Please, open the door!'

The door swung open, revealing a messy-haired, pajama-wearing Danielle. Her eyes were half-closed, she looked exhausted, probably from staying up, worrying about you. "Wha--" Her eyes widened at the sight before her. Your face was covered in dirt, grass, and fear. Your clothes were disheveled, and you were breathing heavily due to how fast you were running. "(Y/n)! Oh my god, come in, come in!" Dani ushered you into her small apartment which was meticulously kept spotless at all times and practically shoved you to sit down on her small loveseat. She sat down next to you and put a hand on your back to calm your racing heartbeat. 

Dani noticed your frantic breathing and quietly told you that she would be back with some peppermint tea, it was your favorite and always seemed to calm you down. You merely sat there, waiting for your friend to come back. You tried not to think about what happened else you break down, so you opted to not think at all. And it thankfully worked.

The ravenette sat down beside you, placing a hot cup of tea in your hands, another one in her own. You took a small sip of the hot liquid and almost immediately felt less tense. The two of you sat there for a few minutes, you trying to comprehend what happened, and Dani feeling absolutely worried sick. 

You finished your tea and set it down on the coffee table next to some psychology books. Glancing at your friend’s confused expression, you sighed heavily and thought of the best way to explain what happened. Once you figured out how you began telling Dani the story of the strange man at the Manor.

After five or so minutes of you retelling your traumatic experience, you fell silent and waited for Dani’s response. She merely looked at you, still puzzled, and told you to get some rest, it had been a long night. For both of you.

You stayed still and bid her a quiet goodnight as she made her way to her room. You slowly laid down on the worn sofa, your feet dangling off the end. You wanted to think more about the man and Dani’s lack of a response, but sleep invaded your sense and you soon fell into a deep slumber.

Warm sunlight and muscle cramps woke you early in the morning. You blinked a couple of times before groggily opening your eyes completely and sitting up, only to find yourself on the floor. No wonder your back hurt so much. You stretched widely, successfully cracking your back. With a yawn and a couple more stretches, you were finally awake enough to stand up and get going. You had a long day ahead of you. After all, you wanted to do as much research as you could about the Manor and… Wilford Warfstache? What a strange name for a strange man. And yet, that name seemed so familiar to you. But why?

You shook your head, clearing away your thoughts before writing a quick note to Dani and leaving. You didn’t want to impose on her any more than you already had, and, to be frank, you had a lot to do. Researching a man from a Manor that no one knew anything about was a tedious task, but you would do it. You wanted to know more. As much as you could.

And that would prove to be easier than you thought.

You made it to your apartment fairly quickly due to how early it was and it being a Sunday. Up two flights of stairs and down a long hallway, you reached your door, your keys in hand, only to find it unlocked… 

You grabbed your pepper spray -- a necessary precaution -- and slowly opened the door, the high-pitched squeak causing you to flinch. You really needed to fix that door. And apparently your lock as well. Whoever broke in destroyed the lock beyond repair. One step at a time, you walked into your small studio. 

It was a disaster.

Chairs had their cushions ripped off of them, your table was flipped over, the drawers in your kitchen and living area were torn out, the contents of them scattered on the floor. Your eyes widened and you felt a mix of fear and annoyance. Fear for who did this -- seeing as how no one was in your studio -- and annoyance for knowing that you were going to have to clean it all up. And you just swept yesterday.

You breathed in through your nose and put your pepper spray back in your bag, setting it down on the table beside the door. Since your apartment was a studio, it was all open except for the bathroom and a small divider you bought to give yourself at least a little privacy while in bed. Due to the positioning of it all, you weren’t able to see the wreckage that was probably your bed. 

Trudging over to said place, you were pleasantly surprised to see that your small ‘bedroom’ was untouched. As much as that pleased you, it was very curious. Most burglars would head straight to the bedroom since that was where most valuables were kept. You narrowed your eyes at that fact but opted to clean first, ask questions later. You wouldn’t be able to think in that messy environment anyway. 

You grabbed a broom and dustpan then immediately pot them back. One would think that all of your training would have taught you to leave a crime scene as it was until forensics could get there. You shook your head, berating yourself at your idiotic actions. The strange event and the lack of sleep must have been finally getting to you. So, instead of cleaning, you thought it might be best to check around your flat first, then go to work so you could tell your colleagues what happened. You knew that such a small burglary like this didn’t call for dialing 911 or your local police station, which just so happened to be where you worked.

An hour or so passed and you found that, thankfully, nothing was broken and nothing was stolen. It was very peculiar. Why would someone break in but not steal anything? Your training from the police and knowledge from your classes began to kick in. You took a notebook from your desk to write down exactly what happened so you could have at least something to show your colleagues. 

Walking over to st on your bed, since that was the only thing left untouched, you nearly dropped your notebook at the sight of an object on your bed. It lay neatly there, hard to notice due to its simplicity. It was as if it was meant to be there. But you knew you would remember if you left something like that just lying around.

A mask with a bright pink mustache. 

Just like the one on Mr. Warfstache… Just like the one you had seen in all those murder scene pictures. This was the mark of The Colonel. A notorious and evil killer who was terrorizing your city. No wonder you recognized him. He had the same mustache. The same careless attitude towards killing like the psychologists at the police department said he would have. Piece after piece fell into place as you thought about it more and more. 

Snatching your phone, you shot a quick picture of the mask and your flat, then grabbed your bag and bolted out of your apartment, not bothering to close the door, it was broken anyway. You ran down the stairs as fast as you could, even skipping a few at the bottom of the flight. The attendant at the front scolded you for running, but soon went back to his phone when he saw that you weren’t going to stop. 

You hastily called a taxi and told them to take you to the police department. You wanted to sit back and calm your racing heartbeat, but the thought of what might happen to you if you weren’t alert kept you from relaxing.

The driver dropped you off at the station and you carelessly threw them a twenty before sprinting into the building. You quickly flashed your badge at the clerk and speed-walked to the chief’s office. He was on the phone and shot you a warning glare to keep quiet until he was finished. You did just that and waited.

When he was done, he hung up the phone and eyed your shaken up form. He nodded towards the chair in front of his desk, silently asking for you to sit down. You were restless but knew that you already made a brash move by barging into his office unannounced. So you complied and sat down, albeit still tapping your foot anxiously. 

The questioning look in his brown eyes was enough to let you know he wanted some answers. And you wanted to give them but you didn’t trust your own voice. So, you decided to just show him. You pulled out your phone and brought up the pictures you took before placing it on his desk so he could see them. 

The second he saw them, his eyes immediately widened and he grabbed your phone so he could see the pictures better. The chief looked from the picture back to you back to the picture as if not believing what he was seeing. And you honestly couldn’t blame him. You didn’t even know what was going on yourself. 

He put your phone down and inhaled a shaky breath before placing his hands on the desk and leaning forward a bit, making direct eye contact with you. “What exactly am I seeing here, intern?”

You gulped nervously and fiddled with your hands. “Well-- uh, they’re pictures from my apartment…”

He narrowed his eyes, not fully giving into your story. “You know what this mask is, right?”

You nodded your head slowly.

“Then tell me, intern, how are you still alive.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. This was a bad idea, coming here, wasn’t it? It’s too late now. “Sir, before you get mad at me… let me explain.”

He raised an eyebrow causing you to sink back into your seat before continuing, “Well… Last night-- my, uh, my friends and I were, uh-- we went out to get some drinks, and, y’know when a group of twenty-year-olds go drinking, we start doing stupid stuff. Like truth or dare. And, um,” Your voice quieted a bit before you continued. “I was dared to go to Markiplier Manor.” You cringed at the silence that ensued and looked down at your hands to rid yourself of the chief’s sharp glare.

“I should be reprimanding you -- probably even suspending you from your duty…” He sighed heavily. “But there are more pressing matters than trespassing.” He cleared his throat and urged you to continue.

You glanced up at him, unsure of what to say. Would he even believe you? A man at the Manor, who just so happened to look like the masks a serial killer was leaving behind. Why would he believe you? You were just an intern… But trusting your boss’ judgment was the only choice you had.

“There was a man there. He… He had a pink mustache. Just like the masks. And -- and he was so reckless with life. Like he didn’t care or he didn’t…” You trailed off before gaining a bit more confidence. You knew what you were talking about. You studied this stuff for years. “Sir,” You sat up straighter adding to you bravery even more. “I’m not exactly sure who exactly he is, but from what I saw, he fits the profile of The Colonel perfectly. I believe that he’s chosen me as his next target. But not to kill… for something else. What exactly? That is what I need to find out.”

The chief sighed again, then called for Steven, the station’s police sketch artist, before turning back to you, an extremely serious look on his countenance. “Did he give you a name? A motive? Anything?” He reached for a pen and paper, staring intently at you waiting for your response.

You hesitated, unsure of the consequences that may follow after you invested yourself completely into this case. You weren’t even sure if they would allow you to help anymore. You were just an intern after all.

However, if you didn’t tell them, what would the families of his victims think? You would be collaborating with a mass killer. The exact opposite of what you set out to do when you applied for college.

“... Wilford Warfstache.”


	2. Part Two

It was eleven at night and you still got no phone call from the police department. After you described Wilford to the sketch artist and told the chief everything that happened that night, you were sent away. They gave you no indication as to where you should go since your studio was now a crime scene and your friends were all at work. 

At first you opted to stay at the station and wait for any information to get relayed back to you, but nothing came. You sat in the break room for hours before you got too bored -- and hungry -- to stay there any longer. So, you decided to grab something to eat at around nine, then wait for a bit before heading back. 

That’s what you were doing. You had gone to a small diner that was open 24/7, ate a sandwich and some fries, and were walking back to the station. It was a cold night, after all, it was close to the end of October. You were glad that you brought a sweatshirt with you to combat the chilliness that swept through the darkened city. With your hands stuffed into the pockets of your sweater and your hood pulled up, you wandered around the city, not wanting to go back to the station just yet. 

You walked past a small park and thought that might be a better place to stay rather than the cold city streets. One would think that you would be too scared to go off on your own, or that the police would want you to stay safe since the mask was at your house, but no. Your city was pretty quiet, the only major thing that had happened since you moved there for college was the Colonel. Knowing full well that since that man had seen your face, knew your name, and knew where you lived, you felt more excited than scared really. It was an opportunity that no one else had; the ability to perhaps catch the maniac once and for all. And you weren’t going to waste it. Stupid, really. Naive, probably. But something about the atmosphere he created, and the strangeness he put off, it, well, it fascinated you. 

When you first met him last night, you were scared, but that was because you didn’t know who he was. Now that you did you weren’t scared, you were ready. At least, you thought you were. You hoped you were.

Maybe it was the shock of the situation, or the want for adventure that made you act so reckless. Whatever it was, it was too late to go back.

You sat down on one of the swings at the park and began rocking back and forth slightly while staring up at the star-filled sky. The moon was already on its way down below the horizon, but the stars stayed there, filling the darkness. You always loved the night sky. How small it could make you feel, knowing that there were millions upon millions of other things in the universe that were so much bigger than you. 

A gentle breeze made the swing sway just a bit more and a feeling of calmness drifted over you. Man, were you tired. You got only a few hours of sleep last night and you had stayed up the entire day, thinking about the man and his mask. Your eyes slowly lowered themselves as you fought to stay awake. Your head drooped, your hands slipped from the chains on the swing causing you almost fall off it. 

That woke you up enough to hear footsteps quietly coming closer to you. A chill went up your spine as you tried to calm yourself and make it look like you hadn’t noticed the noise. You slowly got up from the swing and pulled out your phone. You had taken many self defense classes in college so you knew how to evade people following you without making them attack. It was mandatory due to the profession you wanted to go into. And you were extremely grateful for having taken them, no matter how difficult or tedious they seemed to be. One quick way to throw someone off your trail was to call someone and stay on the phone as you headed to that person’s house. The person might still follow you, but once you get near someone else, they will most likely leave. 

The first person on your phone was Jason, so you quickly called him. He was probably the most threatening of your friend group and his house wasn’t that far away from the park you were at. You started walking towards his house as soon as you decided to call him. One hand held your phone to your ear while the other held on tightly to the bottle of pepper spray in your sweatshirt pocket. At least you were cautious enough to bring that with you. 

Three rings from your phone and you knew Jason wasn’t going to pick up. He always answered immediately when it was one of his police friends. This wasn’t good.

You kept your eyes wide open, your breathing slow even, and quiet so you could here the slightest noise--

BANG

You jumped andwhipped your head around only to have a cloth stuffed against your mouth and nose, blocking any clean air to pass through. Your eyes widened in surprise as you inhaled the chemicals that were soaked into the cloth. You knew fighting it wasn’t going to work and the person holding you was too strong for you to overcome. The fumes made their way into your system and you soon found yourself falling slack against the person behind you. You looked up at them but you were only able to catch a glimpse of pink and yellow before the toxins overtook you.

You awoke in a surprisingly nice room. The walls were a nice dark shade of red, the comforter and drapes a light blue, and the floor was mostly covered by a grey carpet, with a few spots of polished hardwood on the sides. Moving slightly, you noticed that you still had on your previous wear of a light, grey sweatshirt and dark jeans, but your phone and other electronics were missing.

Cautiously, you removed the extremely comfortable blankets from your body and shifted your legs until they were over the side of the bed. You rubbed your eyes, attempting to get the sleep out of them. After looking around the room, you found a window. You walked over to it and quietly gasped in surprise. Outside was a freshly mowed lawn, with a black iron gate at the front, overlooking your city… you were in Markiplier Manor. But how--

The memories of the previous night flooded into your tired mind, successfully waking it up. The park, the stars, the man behind you… It all came back. You put your hand over your mouth and stumbled back a few steps. Who-- Who was it?

Pink and yellow… The only other man you had seen wearing those colors was… Wilford Warfstache.

The door behind you opened causing you to turn around and meet eyes with whoever it was. Standing in the doorway was a man in a dark suit, his hair and eyes as black as night. He looked a lot like Wilford, which was strange. Were they brother's perhaps?

The man walked into the bedroom, his dark eyes looking over your frightened and confused form. You backed up, afraid of the strange energy he was putting off. It was almost as if he consumed the light and energy around him… it was disconcerting, to say the least.

The strange ‘man’ walks into the room a bit more, somehow making the air a few degrees colder. You eyed him nervously, not entirely sure what his deal was. First Wilford, now him? Just your luck.

His dark eyes narrowed at you before he began to speak. “(Y/n), I presume?” His voice was like velvet. It was smooth and elegant but had a dark, gravelly undertone that made shivers run down your spine. What was with this guy?

You bit your lip anxiously and hesitantly replied. “...yes?”

He smiled at you -- albeit with no emotion behind the act -- and took a few more steps closer to you. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

You said nothing and merely continued to stare at him, the cold look in his eyes made you immediately not trust him. He had something up his sleeve and you weren’t going to be a part of it. 

His comment then struck you. In person? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyes widened slightly at his remark and you stepped back a bit. “Wh- Who are you?”

“Most call me Dark, I am… an acquaintance of Wilford.”

Obviously the newly named ‘Dark’ -- quite the peculiar name, fitting for such a peculiar man -- knew your old ‘friend’ Wilford. You were both in the Manor you first met the extravagant man. However, it still frightened you to know that he was in the house with you since you were almost certain that he was the one who brought you here in the first place.

You gulped nervously. “Is… is he here?”

Dark chuckled at your anxious attitude. "I would think so, yes. This is where he usually resides."

Confused, you began to let down your guard ever so slightly. You were beginning to ask more questions which in turn revealed more of yourself to the man in front of you. “Wait, does he not know you’re here?”

The man raised an eyebrow, curious at your actions, but answered, nonetheless. “I would hope not, as I have tried to mask my presence from him…” His voice lowered and the lights around the room dimmed even more. “And I hope to keep this little chat between us. Wilford does not need to know about it. Correct?” 

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was not going to take no for an answer. So, you complied, albeit suspicious as to why this man didn’t want Wilford to know about him. Dark had said that they were acquaintances, so why would he hide from him? 

Apparently that question would be answered later as the strange man gave you a chilling smile and left the room. Once he closed the door warmth and light flooded the room once again. His entire being left a mark anywhere he went. You were glad you never touched him… who knew what would happen to you if you did. Your body quivered at the thought. You should probably try not to find out.

BANG

A thunderous shot rang through the house causing you to scream. You covered your mouth as your breathing and heart rate quickened drastically. What, in the name of all things good, was that!?

BANG BANG

Two more resounded through the mansion, you were positive that they shook the walls around you. 

After slightly calming your racing heart, you decided to find the source of the shots. Though deep in your mind, you knew exactly what it was. Who it was. And, to be honest, you had no idea why you were going closer to it in the first place. Perhaps curiosity? The adrenaline? Why else would you knowingly walk into what will most likely turn out to be your death? 

Without even second guessing yourself, you walked out of the room and basically followed your instincts to where you needed to be. You didn’t look at your surroundings, you just walked. You took a few turns until you reached some stairs and then you went down those. You didn’t look at the dust and cobwebs littering every inch of the mansion. You didn’t notice how your room was the only one that was clean, or how there was white tape on the ground of the living room, very closely resembling the body of a man. You didn’t notice the poker table with bullet holes in it, or the pictures of people strewn across it, pieces of glass everywhere. You didn’t notice anything until you made it to an office, the only other room in the house, save for your room, that wasn’t disgusting. 

You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes widening at the walls of the room. Snapped out of your trance-like walk you finally noticed something. Your head slowly turned to see each side of the office. Each wall was covered from top to bottom with pictures and articles and signs… all about y o u

The air in your lungs seemed to all disappear in just a few seconds. Your mouth opened and closed, trying desperately to gain oxygen and release carbon dioxide. But your body wasn’t doing anything. All it could do was force your eyes to dart to every picture of yourself and slowly but surely cause you to take slow and clumsy steps back. Your knees grew weak, your hands started shaking uncontrollably, and your throat was constricting itself. You needed to breathe.

Just as you were about to pass out from both shock and lack of oxygen, your back ran into something solid and a cold piece of metal pressed against your right temple, a subtle ‘click’ of a safety being turned off travelled through the metal and made your head vibrate. Your body began shaking once more and tears threatened to spill out of your eyes. Thankfully, your lungs started working again, but that only made you hyperventilate which lead to those tears actually running down your face.

You closed your eyes as tight as possible as warm breath hit your left ear, sobs racked your body at the words that escaped into your already muddled brain.

“One for sorrow,”

Click

You held your breath only to release it when the metal left your head.

“Two for mirth,”

Click

Tears traveled faster down your face as you felt the metal rest against your head again.

“Three for a girl,”

Click

He brought the gun to his head, relief flooded your body.

“Four for a boy,”

Click

Again its coldness filled your senses.

“Five for silver,”

Click

Warmth.

“Six for gold,”

Click

Ice.

“Seven for a secret never to be told,”

.

.

.

BANG!

Blood splattered his face and the walls. A scene to be remembered, really. One of his best yet. He couldn’t admire it for long, though, he had a game to finish.

His warm breath travelled down your blood-stained neck, his lips hovering over the silent pulse point there.

“Eight for a wish,”

Click

He turned your face to his and brought your cold lips to his own.

“Nine for a kiss,”

Click

His free hand rested at the small of your back, keeping you upright, close to him.

“Ten for a time of joyous bliss.”

.

.

.

BANG BANG!

A dark chuckle emanated from behind the two bodies, collapsed in an embrace of death. The strange man took in your form. “You had so much potential. But it seems that both of your lives ended in a bang.”


End file.
